


Blood Will Out

by havisham



Category: Original Work
Genre: Blood Drinking, Cats, M/M, Murder, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sibling Incest, ToT: Monster Mash, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-26 23:57:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12569072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/havisham/pseuds/havisham
Summary: Hale lives a quiet life as a priest in a human colony at the edge of the known galaxy. He may be lonely, but his existence has a purpose, of a kind. But one day, everything changes -- his past returns to him, wearing a monstrous and beguiling face.





	Blood Will Out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [heeroluva](https://archiveofourown.org/users/heeroluva/gifts).



> Thanks for such excellent prompts! I've always wanted to write a treat for you, so here it is. Vampires, man. 
> 
> Note: For a more detailed break down of the warnings, please see the end tags.

Hale had been stationed on Portula Six for the duration, tasked with providing spiritual assistance to the small colony of humans that lived there, working in the mines that pockmarked the planet’s surface. It was not a glamorous assignment, nor did it seem to Hale that his parishioners cared much about him. He was a city boy, from the core planets in the Federation, and he wasn’t expected to understand what went on here, at the very edge of civilization. 

And that was fair enough. Hale was fairly clueless about how human beings worked in general. His training had been focused mainly on researching sacred texts. The vow of celibacy hadn’t bothered him either -- he’d never had reason to break it. And though he had no idea that one day he’d be assigned to a far flung parish, he didn’t regret joining The Most Serene Order of Light. It had certainly lived up to its name, anyway. 

His family had been against him even joining the Order, hoping loudly that he would follow his brothers into the Diplomatic Corps. But Hale had never seen himself as a politician or a military man. He’d wanted to be alone with his books and so he had been. To a point. 

“Do you need anything else, Father?” asked Inda, a young man who helped around the church when he wasn’t working elsewhere. He was stocky and serious-faced, a butcher’s apprentice. He was also the first person who had befriended Hale when he’d first arrived on Portula Six, still confused as to his new role in life. 

Hale smiled at him and shook his head. “I’m alright, Inda, thank you.” 

“Here,” Inda said, handing him a package. It was soft and squishy -- fresh meat, a precious commodity here. 

“I can’t accept this, Inda, not when you work so hard to get it…” 

“Of course you can,” Inda said with a bright smile. “Give some it to Satine, she’ll like it.” 

Hale smiled despite himself. Satine _would_ like it -- she was very particular about these things. 

He thanked Inda for his gift and went home. 

It rained quite often on Portula Six, great splashes of orange-tinted water that was impossible to get off all the way. After a Sunday afternoon spent preaching to mostly empty pews, he’d come back to his cramped little house and sighed. 

At least here, he could be alone. Or almost alone -- his cat, Satine, mewed from her corner, the light gleaming on her black scales. Hale chuckled and beckoned her closer with a piece of meat from the package. Satine jumped delicately onto his shoulders and rubbed against him. 

“Missed me, girl?” he said, feeding her the morsel. She licked at his fingers and gave him a plaintive look, begging for more. He ended up feeding her most of the package, leaving little for himself. 

“Hale,” croaked a voice from the shadows. He looked up to see the crouched figure of his brother, Denys, huddled in his bed. Denys’ face was streaked with blood, rust red and flaking. His black hair was stringy and long and his eyes, normally blue, were a tawny yellow. His skin was ashen and white, like a dead man’s. 

Denys was Hale’s eldest brother. The gap in their ages was so great that growing up, Hale hardly even knew him and had seen him as more of a kind uncle than a sibling. But Denys was adored by all, and Hale adored him too. When he came home, he always had gifts, stories of incredible adventures and jokes that Hale never quite understood.

But more precious than gifts, stories and impenetrable jokes was Denys’ kindness, unfailing and steady. Growing up in a household of brothers, kindness was rare and Hale loved him more for it. 

Blood had turned Denys’ smart white uniform almost completely red. Hale swooped down, frantically trying to see if he had any wounds, but he soon discovered that the blood was completely dry. Denys blinked at him. “You keep late hours here.” 

“Do I? What are you --? I mean, welcome, but,” Hale said, feeling as if he was babbling. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be on a three year mission to the Draco system, aren’t you?” 

Denys smiled. Hale could see dried blood between his teeth. “You keep up with my career, do you?” 

“Of course, I have to,” Hale said with a huff, “it’s not like you’d send me a message otherwise.” 

“You should forgive me. My life’s been… complicated recently.” 

“You don’t seem injured,” Hale replied, puzzled. “But what about all this blood?” 

“Look, do you have a fresher?” Denys asked, “I can be on my way in no time.” 

“This is the backend of the galaxy,” Hale said, “We have nothing so fancy as that. I’ll draw you a bath.” 

It took time for the water to heat up for the bath, and Hale used it to look anywhere but to his brother’s rake-thin body. Had Denys always been so thin, so starved looking? In his memories, Denys was always tall -- always taller than Hale -- and strong. 

But now, Hale could almost count the notches on his spine as Denys stripped out of his uniform. There was really a lot of blood, everywhere. Not just the dried brown of human blood, but silvery liquid that Hale could only suppose was alien blood. What had happened to Denys? 

“Will you scrub my back?” Denys asked him, glancing backwards. Hale hesitated. 

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he continued on, looking away. 

“No, I… don’t mind.” The heater dinged -- the water was ready. The bathtub was meant for a much smaller person than either Hale or Denys -- Denys’ long legs folded uncomfortably against the enamel basin. It was easy to stare at that, and follow the line of his thighs downwards. 

The steam from the bath hid the blush on Hale’s cheeks. He shook his head. This was normal, he told himself. He had been so long alone that any naked person would arouse interest in him. He was celibate, not dead. 

“Hale?” Denys’ voice cut through the fog of his thoughts. Hale blinked, reaching blindly towards him, a washcloth in hand. There were numerous nicks and scratches all over Denys’ body, but nothing dangerous or even likely to scar. It seemed that he was right, all that blood belonged to someone else.

“What happened to you, Denys?” Hale said softly. “How did you come all this way?” 

“We were under attack,” Denys said. He leaned against Hale’s arms and looked at him, his eyes wide. The yellow of his irises hadn’t abated in the least. “I was the only survivor, with only one shot to get away -- the transporter didn’t have enough energy to take me to the Core. So I thought of you instead, my baby brother, here at the edge of the galaxy.” 

“But still, what a risk…” 

“I made it, didn’t I?” Then Denys laughed. “I say that now, but there were a hundred times during the journey I thought I would die.” 

Hale’s stomach rumbled loudly. He remembered too late that he’d given more than half of his intended dinner to Satine -- he looked around, curious. Where had his darling cat gotten to? 

“You sound hungry,” Denys said. “I can finish here, go eat something.” 

“I’ll make something for you,” Hale replied, standing up. 

“I wouldn’t,” Denys said. “My appetites are not --” 

“We’ve got nothing for your refined palate, I’m sure,” Hale said, “but it’s all edible, all the same.” 

“Ah, you’ve grown touchy,” Denys said, splashing water over the side of the tub. “I don’t remember that about you.” 

“You barely knew me when we were younger,” Hale said, trying to keep the bitterness from his voice. He went out of the bathroom before Denys could say anything else. He fried the meat and added it to a pot of rehydrated soup, setting out a bowl for Denys and another for himself. He waited ten minutes for Denys to come out before his stomach growled again and he began to eat. Denys came in a little while later and accepted the bowl of soup with good grace. 

Satine, attracted by the smell of food, crept into the kitchen and rubbed her head against Hale’s leg. When Denys noticed her and wiggled a piece of meat at her, she hissed at him, the ridges of her neck spines standing to attention. 

“Your cat doesn’t seem to like me,” Denys said with an amused chuckle. 

“Maybe she senses that you’re trying to patronize her,” Hale said.

Denys seemed to consider this. “No, that’s not it.” 

Hale got up and refilled Satine’s food and water bowl, but the cat didn’t come near him, only watching from the distance until he went away. 

*

After dinner -- which Denys did not actually eat, throwing his meal into the eliminator when he thought Hale wasn’t looking -- there was really nothing to do but go to bed. “I’ll sleep on the floor,” Denys said, as Hale changed the sheets and put the blood-caked ones in the basket to be laundried. 

“Don’t be stupid,” Hale said, “I’ll sleep on the floor if I need to -- you must be tired.” 

It looked like they would argue about this, out of everything, but Denys sighed and capitulated. “Why don’t we just share the bed? We’re brothers, after all.” He flashed Hale a particularly charming, crooked smile. “I promise I won’t steal the blankets.” 

It was hard to fall asleep with someone beside him -- Hale wasn’t used to it, and he doubted he would ever be -- and besides, Denys’ skin was exceptionally chilly to the touch. Tomorrow morning, he decided sleepily, he would bring him to the medlab. 

Something was definitely wrong with Denys.

*

Hale woke to a strange lapping noise and a wetness near his neck. As he slowly slid back into consciousness, he realized that he couldn’t move. He was fixed to the spot by two arms like steel cables and something -- _someone_ \-- was biting at his neck. 

“Denys? W-what are you doing?” 

“Shhh, don’t worry, I won’t take too much -- I’m so hungry, Hale, I can’t stand it anymore…” He rocked against Hale’s body, sucking at his neck. 

Hale began to struggle. Denys’ teeth were sharp as needles and there was a sharp sting and then pleasure, repellent, strange, but pleasure nonetheless, running across his body like a lover’s hand.

He felt his blood flowing out, hot and faintly steaming. “Are you going to kill me?” 

Denys stiffened against him, holding in his breath. “No,” he whispered, “I've more control than that. Don't think about it, Hale. It'll be over soon -- let me distract you.” He reached out and palmed his Hale’s cock, which stirred eagerly. 

“You can't,” Hale began to say, but cut himself off with a moan. It felt so good, being touched, being _sucked_ \-- how could he take pleasure from this? Was he so unworthy of his vocation as that? 

“Don't think,” Denys said, his voice muffled. “I won't hurt you. I love you, Hale.” 

“You're a monster.” 

“Yes.” 

Everything seemed to be getting darker and darker around him. Something ached inside of Hale. He didn't know if it was the last of his innocence dying or the awakening of something new, something frightening.

*

He awakened to the smell of frying bread. “Am I dead?” Hale asked himself as he sat up in bed. Satine chirruped and rubbed her head against his side, demanding pets. He did so absentmindedly, keeping one eye on the kitchen. Presently, a very sheepish-looking Denys came around the corner, holding onto a smoking fry-pan. 

They stared at each for a moment before Hale tried for calm and said, “Are _you_ dead?” 

Denys considered it. “Yes, I suppose so. Breakfast?” 

“The hell with breakfast!” Hale burst out. “What was that? Why did you do that?” 

“I wouldn’t say to hell with breakfast,” Denys said, sliding the toast and reconstituted egg on a plate. He handed the plate to Hale, who stared at it with mute disgust. 

“And I wouldn’t make that face,” Denys said mildly. “I would love to eat that and be satisfied. But I can’t.” 

“I’ve read about things like -- you. Unconsecrated bodies, moving with the spirit of evil. But they’re not _real_. They’re not supposed to be real. What happened to you, Denys?” 

Denys sat at the foot of the bed while Hale ate. It seemed like he was trying to contain himself, moving carefully so Hale wouldn’t startle. Almost dreamily, he said, “We came upon an abandoned ship where none were supposed to be. I gave the order to explore it, to find any survivors if we could. It was no good -- all aboard were long dead. Well, except for one.” 

“The vampire,” Hale said and shivered. Vampires were not supposed to exist -- they cropped up sometimes in lore, but it always understood that the legends had more to do with the anxieties of the living than the work of the undead. 

“Yes. The master of the ship,” Denys said. “The ship itself warned us -- or rather, it prepared us for its master. All of my crew perished but I --” 

“Why did you come _here_?” 

“I wanted to see you.” 

“You barely knew I was alive.” 

“Not true. Why do you think that? I’m not such a poor brother, am I?” 

“No, it’s just -- I’ve been here, alone, for years now. The family’s never reached out to me before now.” 

“Well,” Denys said, swinging his legs over the bed and standing up. “We’re all a bunch of cold-blooded monsters, this family -- the exception being you. Are you surprised that no one wanted to talk to the only one of us who hadn’t devoted his life to the destruction of other lives?” 

“You flatter me,” Hale said drily. “I didn’t mean to,” Denys said and ruffled Hale’s hair. His burst of affection not yet quenched, he bent down and placed a kiss on his forehead. When Hale didn’t react, he grew bolder, brushing his lips against Hale’s for a moment. They stared at each other. 

“Why are you doing this?” 

“Why do you ask so many questions?” 

“In hopes that you’ll answer one.” 

“I saw you looking, Hale.” Denys got on his knees and pushed himself between Hale’s legs. “I don’t mind it. You grew up well.” 

“It’s incest, Denys, stop! It’s a sin. And I made a vow -- look here, don’t touch me.” 

“I was wondering when you’d remember you were a priest.” 

“Don’t mock me,” Hale said, pushing him away. “I have to go --” 

He didn’t ask what Denys intended to do, or if he intended to stay. Instead, Hale hurried out of the house, stopping only to refill Satine’s food and water bowl. When he reached the church, all was as it had been the day before. He concentrated on small things -- cleaning the vestry, trying to make sense of the accounts, polishing the candlesticks. 

He tried to pray, but his mind went blank. Instead of thinking of God, he thought of Denys instead and shrank back from the heresy. Hale had never been especially religious -- which was faintly ridiculous, given his current profession -- but he had never sought out sinfulness either. 

_Please, please let me not fall_ , he finally managed to pray. _Do not let me fall into temptation. If I cannot save me, give me the strength to destroy him._

Around him, the church was quiet and the atmosphere, watchful. He did not know if God had heard his prayer, or if He was even listening. Soon it was time to go home again and Hale’s dread grew with every step. 

Hale was so preoccupied by his thoughts he didn’t hear the first time Inda greeted him, or notice when he approached. When he felt a hand on his shoulder, Hale flinched and wheeled around, ready for another attack. 

“Whoa!” Inda took a step back. “Are you alright, Father?”

Hale blinked at him. “Inda? Oh -- I’m sorry, I was just -- distracted.” 

“Thinking about the recital?” Inda smiled. Hale looked at him blankly. It was as if he was speaking a different language. Finally, realization dawned. The children of the miners put on an annual recital during solstice, and that was indeed coming soon. Hale had even begun to prepare for it, though he disliked the noise and disorder such events brought. 

“I have… thought about it,” Hale said, nodding. “The children seem to enjoy it.” 

“Of course, I loved it when I was a kid,” Inda said. 

“You know, Inda,” Hale said, a little regretfully, “perhaps you should have been the priest instead of me. I can’t seem to get any of this right.” 

“Everyone knows that you try your best. No one could fault you for more.” 

“I think people do fault me, and what’s more, they’re right to,” Hale said, stopping suddenly. They had walked to his house without him even noticing. From the outside, all seemed well. Only a tiny twitch of the curtain, closed against the sun, promised anything more. 

Hale couldn’t think of a way to get rid of Inda before he went in -- sometimes they would spend the evening together, talking of books mostly -- so he made some weak excuse of Satine being ill and hurried up the steps, not checking to see if Inda believed him. 

Only when the door closed behind him did Hale allow himself a measure of relief. 

“What’s this, Hale? You didn’t tell me you had a native boyfriend. And you seemed so pure and so shocked by me -- was that all an act?” 

Denys was lounging on Hale’s bed, wearing Hale’s clothes. He was too big for them -- it seemed that his repast last night had healed him a little. His face had lost that starveling look to it, though he was still very thin. He gave Hale a smile that was almost vicious. 

Hale felt heat rise on his cheeks. He avoided Denys’ part of the room and stalked over to the kitchen. He ate his dinner there, hunched over the eliminator, listening for noises from the other room. Satine wandered by without a glance at him. 

Finally, having no excuse to ignore him, Hale came out of the kitchen and marched over to his bed, where Denys waited for him, pretending to sleep. He opened his eyes when Hale leaned over him, his mouth curling up into a ready smile. 

“If I took a native for a lover,” Hale said, enunciating each word carefully, “it would have nothing to do with you, because I don’t want you, you sick man.” 

“You don’t,” Denys said, “want me?” 

“No.” 

Denys pressed a cool hand against Hale’s groin and rubbed against it. Hale bit off a moan and glared down at him. Denys smirked. “Your cock disagrees.” 

“My cock does not dictate what I do, my mind does.” 

“You are --” Denys seemed to somber up a little and sighed. “I’m hungry again, Hale. Please, let me feed from you. It won’t hurt you and it’ll help me. After all, aren’t you meant to help people?” 

“You’re not a person, you’re an animated corpse.” 

“So harsh. So unkind. What happened to my sweet brother who loved me so?” 

“You assaulted him in his sleep.” 

“I won’t anymore _._ So. _Let me feed_.” Denys wrapped an arm around Hale’s waist and pressed his face against his stomach. “I won’t hurt you and I won’t insult your boyfriend, I promise.” 

Hale found his resolve weaken with every word. He groaned and pulled away from Denys. Not looking at him, he began to strip before he remembered -- “You are only to drink. And he’s not my boyfriend.” 

Denys nodded, looking alert. “Understood. I’ll drink and do nothing more.” 

*

Now that he was awake and aware of what was happening, Hale could see how easily blood-drinking could lead to sex. It was unavoidably intimate -- Denys had declared that he would draw from the vein on the inside of Hale’s thigh, to avoid any marks showing from above his collar. Hale had reluctantly agreed. 

But now that Denys was actually doing it, his hair brushing against Hale’s open hand, he thought it had been a mistake after all. He felt good -- the sting of the bite had immediately been replaced by pleasure so strong and so complete that it acted as a narcotic. Every part Denys’ mouth touched seemed to be aflame, with a fire so hot and so sweet that Hale felt tears prick against his eyes. 

His breathing was strange, unnatural. Also he was lewdly, impossibly hard. Absently, he rubbed against his cock, hoping it would go away. Denys lifted up his head and considered him, eyes blazing. His mouth was so red that it was unreal. _That was my blood,_ Hale thought, astonished _. My brother is drinking my blood. Taking my communion._

He waited for a moment to be struck dead, but nothing happened. 

“Hale,” Denys said, his voice shaking a little. “Would you hate me if I --” 

“For the love of God, _do it._ ” 

Denys rubbed his mouth dry with the back of his hand and was about to wipe it off on the bedsheet when Hale caught his hand and licked it clean. He made a face. His blood tasted like blood -- salty and tinged with iron. Unpleasant. But Denys laughed and reached out and kissed him, a kiss that was like a bite. 

“You taste _vile_ ,” Hale said, wrinkling his nose. It was the blood, of course, but there was something else too -- a vague taste of decay, like meat that had gone off. 

Denys laughed again. “Don’t blame me, you filthy necrophile.” 

“I’m _not_ \--” 

“Not a person, a reanimated corpse, is what you said.” 

“I hate you,” Hale said, closing his eyes for a moment. Denys pulled him close, his face buried in the crook of Hale’s neck. He stayed like that for a moment before he looked up. 

“I am dying to put my cock in you and see you scream and moan like the unholy brat that you are, but you’d kill me for that. So we’ll just rub against each other. Can you do that, Hale?” 

“Don’t act as if I’m an imbecile -- or a child,” Hale whined. He turned to face Denys and pressed his aching cock into Denys’ hand, which was warm from contact. “Can you even _get_ hard?” 

“Of course I can get hard, fool,” Denys hissed as Hale began to move against him. “Vampires are creatures of seduction. You can’t seduce if you can’t use your cock.” 

“You’re so crude -- and lack all imagination.” 

“I seduced _you._ ” 

It felt too good. Hale came before he could make a reply or do anything else. Denys licked up his semen as if it was blood, with every sign of enjoyment. Hale felt faint with desire. 

If he hadn’t been sure of his own damnation before, he was certain of it now. 

*

The next few days went by in a haze. Hale did not leave his home and rarely left his bed. Denys was relentless and tireless. He fed every time they had sex, but it seemed to Hale that the amounts were tiny. Even so, at the end of it, Denys looked as gorgeous as he had in Hale’s most distant memories and Hale -- 

“I look like a corpse,” he said flatly, looking into the mirror. Denys wandered in -- he didn’t show in the mirror -- and peered over Hale’s shoulder. 

“Do you want to be? Not dead, I mean. Undead.” 

“No!” Hale pushed him away and began to wash, the soup stinging against the little nicks and bruises on his face and neck. Despite what he said, he felt very well-marinated indeed. It would be but a step further for Denys to devour him whole. He shuddered. He was not as unhappy with that thought as he should have been. 

When he was washed and dressed, he realized that he had not seen Satine in many days. Struck by a sudden dread, he looked for her in her usual spots, but the cat was nowhere to be found. “I’m heading out,” he said to Denys, throwing over a coat over his cassock. “Don’t open the door if anyone knocks.” 

“Happy hunting, love,” Denys sang out. Hale slammed the door closed. 

He went to the church first, though he was fairly certain Satine would not be there. The entrance was clogged with mail that he hadn’t taken in, and notes that some parishioners had left him, expressing concern over his absence. He was surprised that none of them had tried visiting him at home -- but perhaps they had. Perhaps he had been too far gone to even notice. 

Hale felt his face burn. He couldn’t stay here any longer, he knew. As soon as he returned home, he would pen a letter to send to the Order headquarters, asking for reassignment. He’d put it off for years, out of stubbornness and pride, but now he had little of either. 

His stomach grumbled then, loud enough that he had to pay attention. On his way home, he stopped by the caf to buy something to eat. The girl running the food stalls barely looked up at him when he entered and only glanced at him when he paid. Her attention was glued to the news slick she was flipping through with a expression of disdain. 

Hale hadn’t eaten in days -- at least, he didn’t remember eating. Even reconstituted shoe leather would have tasted fine, and mediocre nutritional slop tasted like ambrosia. Feeling strengthened by his meal, Hale set out to find Satine. He visited the places he knew she liked to go, when she got loose -- the other cat down the road, the fountain where bird-like drones tended to rest, the alleyway behind the butcher shop -- there, it occurred to Hale that if anyone had worried over his absence, it would be Inda. 

But when he dipped in to see him, the butcher told him that Inda had left for the day. Discouraged, Hale turned away and headed home. 

He heard a small mew before he saw her -- Satine was waiting for him on the top of the steps. Behind her gaped the open door to his house. “Oh Satine!” He reached out and scooped her up into his arms. “I’m so sorry, my darling, you must’ve starved --” Satine looked at him coolly. She did not look starved. In fact, she looked distinctly well-fed. 

“... Has Inda been feeding you?” 

Satine gave him an innocent look, like she had no idea what he could be talking about. Sighing, Hale brought her inside and let her go, closing the door behind him. It was then he noticed the blood. It seemed to be painted thick on every surface of the room, but that was not true. 

There was a thick spill of it where he stood, and then drips and drabs of it followed into the kitchen. Hale followed the blood and found Denys still drinking from Inda’s prone body. He looked up when Hale entered the kitchen and even had the audacity to smile. 

A glance at Inda’s face -- what was left of it -- was enough to tell Hale what had happened.

“Now, Hale…” Denys began to say. Hale broke a chair and grabbed one of legs. Portula Six was indeed so backward that most, if not all, furniture in poorer households was still made of wood. It was a soft wood from an outer planet, not meant for long term use, but it would serve for now. 

A wooden stake, the stories said, driven through a vampire’s heart would kill him. But the stories did not say how difficult it was to catch a vampire, slippery with your friend’s blood, or how much stronger a vampire was -- after he had drained a human body dry. 

Hale had pushed the stake in, but he’d missed the heart. Denys was so strong and still feeling the effects of bloodlust. He bit into Hale’s neck and sucked hard. Pain and nothing but pain filled Hale, and he felt rage at himself and Denys and grief and pity for Inda. Had his entire life only been for this?

“You want to kill me,” Denys said panting. “You want me to die for what I did. Oh, sweet boy, you do. But if you die here, nothing would stop me from doing this again. Drink, Hale. _Drink_.” 

Denys pulled away and ripped into his own wrist, blood gushing out. “Drink,” he said roughly, pushing it against Hale’s closed mouth. Hale jerked his head away. 

He did not want to. Even if what Denys said was right, Hale knew that something would go wrong, that Denys would not die so easily. But even as his legs and arms grew cold, Hale opened his mouth. Denys shoved his blood-soaked fingers into it and Hale sucked on them, first with loathing and then more eagerly. The blood was slick and bitter, more terrible than anything he had ever tasted. He drank it and when it ran out, he moaned at its loss. 

“More,” he said, “Denys --” 

His brother pressed his open wrist to Hale’s mouth and he drank greedily. His vision grew dark around him. He heard Denys stir and murmur to him. “I love you, Hale. Come find me.” 

“I will,” Hale said, or he thought he said, when the darkness took him. He would find Denys and kill him, even if took years, even if it took centuries. It was the truth that they both knew. 

There was nothing else to be said now. 

**Author's Note:**

> Extra Spoilery Tags: Attempted sexual assault, non-consensual blood-drinking/turning, religious blasphemy, somewhat irresponsible pet-parenting, briefly described gore, referenced necrophilia. 
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you to my betas! All remaining mistakes are mine.


End file.
